


The Melody Of Us

by Megnana



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Baby Elves, Baby Feanor is adorable, Baby Fingon is adorable, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Manwe and Varda watch over the elves, Varda and Manwe are like the loving uncle and aunt to most of the elves, Varda and Manwe love each other very much, Varda doesn't like Melkor, Varda likes baby elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megnana/pseuds/Megnana
Summary: Varda and Manwe have always been together, entwined in fea and song.





	The Melody Of Us

They sang together in the void, before time and space and matter, when all there was was the sweet music of the Ainur and the presence of Eru. There were no bodies then, and no jealousies, only the feel of one another and the others.  
Even then Melkor stood aside, bewitched by the beauty of Varda’s fea, bright and gentle, flitting like the beginnings of birdsong as she sang and danced with the others, fea against fea. He longed to share with her the easy intimacy that she shared with his brother, a connection as easy as breath, like one shared heartbeat. But even then, she saw his darkness and his lust and drew back from him, addressing him only when Manwe in his sweet naiveite asked it.   
Her choice was easy, when Eru came before them and spoke of marriage, the joining of two souls for all eternity. He gave them a choice, to choose from amongst the others one to share the long expanse of time with, and when he returned she did not need to think before reaching for Manwe and weaving their souls together in a vow like birdsong and starlight.  
Their music had always been intertwined, since their first meeting at the beginning of all things, and it was from her song that Manwe wrought the first nightingale.

There was music and laughter amongst the elves that night, bright and beautiful like birdsong as they praised the stars and the light of the two trees. Manwe revelled in it as it washed over him like birdsong. Varda however was subdued, a slight shadow cast over her radiant face.  
“What is the matter my love? You have been out of sorts all day. Is this not a day of rejoicing?” He questioned, worried. He had not seen her this subdued since Melkor had cast down the lamps.  
Varda sighed and grasped his hand, her pale silver skin soft against his. “I feel that it is a time of both rejoicing and mourning. Both for the love that has been gained, and the love that has been lost”. She cast her eyes to the happy couple sitting at the raised table. Indis and Finwe would be happy together, they were a good match, and yet there was a feeling of unease, as if something was going unnoticed.  
Manwe gripped her hand softly and smiled. “It is better that Finwe has remarried rather than remain alone, while I have no doubts that he would have done an excellent job with Finweon I believe that no child should have to grow up without a mother”.  
“Is that why you permitted this match? For Feanaro’s sake?” Varda frowned slightly as she sighted the child in question, hiding slightly behind a curtain and watching the festivities with wide eyes. Feanaro had been sent to bed hours ago, and the first mingling of the lights, and yet it seemed that he could not be kept from his father’s side for long.  
Manwe frowned. “I permitted it because they found love with each other and Miriel has no wish to return to the world of the living. That Indis would be an excellent mother to Finweon was of only mild consideration” When this did not easy her troubled gaze he continued “Would you wish them remain apart?”.  
Varda sighed. “No, I simply feel that the situation is too complicated to be solved like this. Finwe’s remarriage will not simply heal the space that has been left empty in Feanaro’s heart. Although I am happy for them, they are an excellent match. I just feel…” She trailed off, unable to find the words to express her thoughts. Spoken language, while efficient in some ways was almost inadequate in others.  
Varda opened her mind to Manwe and shared her thoughts with him, her fears and her hopes for Finwe and his new wife. Smiling softly, Manwe raised her small hand to his mouth and kissed it.  
“Whatever is to come, is to come. There is little we can do to stop it now”   
Varda laughed as his fea brushed against hers in a soft kiss, a reassurance. “Well, all we can do is hope. Hope that Eru has a bright future in mind for them”. A small movement caught her eye as a small dark head poked its way through a curtain just to the left of where they were sitting in Finwe’s great hall. Feanaro had somehow managed to evade the many adults in the room in his quest to find a good vantage point from which to observe his father.  
Is was with a soft smile that Varda rose from her seat and collected the tiny elfling. He let out a tiny squeak as she lifted him and carried him back to her cushioned seat. Once there she placed him in her lap and arranged her full blue skirts around him like a blanket. Feanaro, who had had interactions with Varda before immediately snuggled into her breast and made a nest in her skirts from which he watched his father like a baby hawk. Manwe’s already gentle smile softened even more as he gazed on the Queen of the Valar and her tiny charge.  
It was not long before Feanaro’s sharp gaze began to cloud over, and his tiny face relaxed into sleepiness. At the first sign of drowsiness, Varda began to softly sing a lullaby, like the ones she had heard the elven mothers sing. She sang of starlight, and birdsong, and as Manwe’s voice softly joined hers, she sang of nimble fingers, and silver hair, and of a mother that had been lost.  
It was near the brightening of Laurelin’s light, when Finwe, who had gone to check on his son and found his nursery empty, entered the great hall in a panic and found his son cradled in soft arms and wrapped in a sweet song from before Arda’s creation.

The music that filled the air at Nelyafinwe’s presentation was more energetic than the music at Finwe’s wedding, it almost matches the enthusiasm of the child’s father. Feanaro is grinning so wide that Varda almost fears that that his face will suffer a severe injury. His radiant joy is almost matched by his fathers, Finwe has been unable to keep a smile off his face since he learned of Nerdanel’s pregnancy. And while Feanaro had also been delighted at the news of his impending fatherhood, there had been an underpinning of anxiety, a fear that his beloved Nerdanel would suffer the same fate as his mother. His work had almost suffered for it, Feanaro had refused to leave his wife’s side throughout her pregnancy, abandoning his forge for months at a time.  
There is no trace of that anxiety now as a radiant Nerdanel cradles her copper haired son in the centre of a circle of friends and family. Feanaro and Nolofinwe have even put aside their enmity for the evening, as the younger son of Finwe stands beside his sister in law to coo at his new nephew, an arm firmly wrapped around his sweetheart Anaire. Even Arafinwe is there, sneaking glances at Olwe’s silver haired daughter from where he stands with his mother at Finwe’s side.  
Varda sighs happily and rests her head on Manwe’s shoulder, a soft song on her lips, the soft silver earrings that an adolescent Feanaro had blushingly presented to her resting on her husband’s silver robe.   
“It seems that everything is falling into place tonight husband” She manages to hum when Manwe fixes her with an affectionate look. He only laughs and presses a soft kiss to her hair, humming in soft joy when she snuggles closer. They hum together for a moment before turning their faces back to the joyful family.  
Feanaro laughs at something Nerdanel says and lifts his son into his arms to kiss the already curling copper hair. Nolofinwe claps his brother on the back with a grin and for one brilliant, shining moment Feanaro grins back.

There was a song like laughter in the air when Findekano was born.   
Nolofinwe and Anaire chose to have a smaller, more intimate gathering for their newborn son, but the joy was no less that at Nelyafinwe’s presentation. Manwe and Varda were only there because Anaire requested them there. Varda had always been fond of the small, dark haired Noldor girl who had come to her and begged for sweets before her mortified parents could rush her away, and now the star queen was delighted to share in the joy of her first born.  
Findekano was a sweet baby, small hands reaching up to grasp at Varda’s long dark hair, eyes captivated by the soft silver lights caught within. Nelyafinwe stands at her side, already unusually tall, wide grey eyes fixed on his small cousin.  
“He already looks like uncle” the young prince observed in his quiet, serious manner.  
“That does tend to happen dear one” Varda told the Noldo, who blushed a shade of red that almost matched the copper of his hair.  
“I mean only that it took Makalaure several months to begin to resemble father! Newborn babies almost always look like uncooked chickens, but Findekano already looks like his father”.  
It took all Varda’s self-control to keep from laughing at Nelyafinwe’s outburst. The poor child is already flustered in her presence. No, she reminded herself, not a child anymore, at 30 years old the red-haired son of Feanaro is already an adolescent.   
“Would you like to hold him Maitimo?” Varda offered, holding the baby out to his cousin. Nelyafinwe accepts and shushes Findekano with a practised movement when the child fusses. There was a soft lullaby on his lips, and Varda echoes it with a smile, making her way to her husband’s side.  
Manwe stands beside a glowing Earwen who smiles at Varda as she caresses her growing belly, an ever present Arafinwe by her side. Nerdanel stands a bit apart, deep in conversation with Finwe. She has not yet announced it to keep the attention on Anaire and Nolofinwe’s joy, but Varda could sense another life already forming within Nerdanel. “Another boy”, she thought softly to Manwe, who had already sensed the growing child, and with an odd moment of foresight she added “A playmate for Orome, I think”  
Manwe laughed, and a song of deep contentment filled her mind.

Sorrow, there was only sorrow in their hearts now. Songs of joy replaced with an all-consuming lament.  
There was blood in the water at Aqualonde, the kinslaying happened so suddenly and with such fervour that hundreds were dead before even anyone could stop to think. Namo’s doom came just as suddenly, and for the first time Varda and Manwe were in conflict.  
Manwe, sweet gentle Manwe had turned his heart against the Noldor, who’s joys, and lives he once delighted in. The blood of the Teleri had turned the water red, and innocent had fled Aman. His face was twisted in grief as he sat on his throne in Taniquetil, and Varda was silent beside him. Their hall was empty and dark, even the stars were dimmed by Varda’s grief for the children of Eru.  
Varda wept silently, grief not only for the fates of the Teleri slain at Aqualonde, but also for those Noldor left behind, sundered from their kin by Namo’s curse.  
Grief had cast a shadow over Aman, and for a long time no music fell from Varda’s lips.

It was not Manwe who heard Findekano’s desperate call, from the base of Thangorodrim, and it was not initially Manwe who was moved to mercy.   
Sitting by her husband’s side, Varda had heard the prayers of the Noldor who crossed the grinding ice and remembered the fair children who she had once treasured more than the precious jewels that they had laid at her feet in tribute. Findekano had prayed to her more than once, prayed for strength to carry on when his brother’s wife died, and prayed for his father to continue living. He prayed to no other Valar, and he never stopped.  
While Varda was moved by his prayers, she remembered the blood staining the docks at Aqualonde, and she stayed silent. But if the stars shone a little brighter over the Helcaraxe while the followers of Nolofinwe made their way across the sea then Manwe said nothing of it.  
But it was Findekano’s prayer to Manwe that moved her, and even as her husband sat in conflicted silence by her side, she raised her voice in song, a lament for the grandsons of Finwe. The dear boys who once had lived and loved in the bliss of Aman, who had hidden their own great love from their families in fear. And as the tears fell like starlight from her fair face, Manwe felt a great surge of pity, and showed mercy.

Songs of war had filled Valinor, and songs of victory. The evil had been defeated, Melkor had been banished, and once again, a kind of tentative hope had filled the hearts of the elves who returned from their banishment.  
But Varda’s mind was far from them. She had no love for Melkor, no love for the way his eyes had lingered on her body, and how he had twisted words and shadow to his bidding. But she had great love for her husband, who had always loved his brother, even when he had fallen. Manwe had always hoped, deep down in his fea, in a place only Varda could find, that Melkor would give up his evil ways and would return to Aman to his brother.  
While Melkor’s defeat was cause for boundless joy from the elves, it triggered a greater grief in Manwe. He knew, deep down that his brother had fallen too far and that he could no longer remain in Arda. He knew that as king it was his duty to defeat the darkness and lead Eru’s children into a brighter future.  
And yet he wept on the floors of the chambers that he shared with his wife, head cushioned in her lap as she sang a soft song of comfort. He wept for the innocent that had been lost, the lives that had been claimed, and for the anger that Melkor had awoken in him. No longer were they the sweet souls who had danced and sang in the time before creation, but still they were together.  
And in a voice marred with sorrow, Manwe lifted his voice and sang of joy.


End file.
